


Resonance

by Celtic_Knot



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Angst, Emotional Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Knot/pseuds/Celtic_Knot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Saitou knows Heisuke refuses to make assumptions based on the past. Once does not promise twice. But this is less about any sort of sexual gratification, and more about what they can do for each other. They fit into each other’s lives in a way that can provide healing, if Heisuke would simply stop overthinking his own worth and accept it. </i> </p><p>Companion fic to <i>Echo</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Findarato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/gifts), [lightningwaltz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Hakuouki, nor did I in any way contribute to its creation. All rights go to their respective owners.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** Emotional sex, angst, hurt/comfort
> 
> Sequel to _Echo_ , it can be read alone but connections to _Echo_ are present throughout 
> 
> Set: Immediately after the Aburano Koji incident.

* * *

 

On its own blood is not anything other than red and damp. Saitou is no stranger to it. His own and that of others. He knows about how long it takes blood to go cold, to dry and flake away. He cannot say he takes any particular joy in this knowledge, but he possesses it anyway. The life that provides such knowledge is one that suits him well.

The blood dripping from Heisuke’s mouth onto his chest and stomach is jarring. The bleeding is the culmination of Heisuke shoving himself into a role he was not meant for. But he had kept pushing and pushing out of a sense of determination and commitment that is so much a part of him. And the wound itself fits. Given in return for an act of protect. Protecting Yukimura. That suits Heisuke fine. His love for his friends is something to be admired. Those types of feelings appear so delicate against steel, but Heisuke’s are twice as strong blade Saitou’s ever seen forged.

He pays for them all the same. Is going to pay everything for them if he doesn’t make a choice.

Saitou knows a fatal wound when he sees one. They all know, are all here because they owe Heisuke that witness if he chooses now as his final moments. Hijikata-san’s pained frustration is palpable. Saitou can feel it shaking through the mats under his feet. The role of leader of always comes with a responsibility unfair in its heaviness. Hijikata-san will spend days analyzing how he might have prevented this outcome none of them had wanted.

Even Souji remains respectfully silent.

Yukimuru had been taken from the room by Yamazaki. Saitou is sympathetic to her desire to stay, and Hijikata’s command to keep her back. She feels responsible, she cares for Heisuke. But she should not witness a man dying. It will be a kind of death whether Heisuke lives or not.

Shinpachi and Sano will not leave Heisuke’s side, nor will they make room for any others to move in closer. It’s their right as the ones who had been charged with bringing Heisuke home if possible. And as the other two members of the unique friendship those three have always had. Heisuke holds onto each of their hands, his breathing terribly rough and wet. The bleeding is deep within in his chest. Nowhere a doctor can reach.

There isn’t much time left either way. It is impressive that Heisuke has survived the time it took to carry him back to headquarters, but time will not allow much more. Shinpachi’s shoulders begin to shake suspiciously and Saitou knows it has to be now.

Sannan-san offers once more, slow and clearly. The choice he offers must make it past the wounds and confusion, “Toudou-kun, will you take it?”

That question seizes up every breath in the room and stuffs it into the empty space at the top of the vial.

It takes a strength that Saitou didn’t imagine Heisuke would still have to lift his head and look at each one of them in turn.

Heisuke’s eyes catch onto Saitou and linger, lips pulling into a smile that reveals bloody teeth. Saitou has no answers to give, Heisuke does not ask for them. He is not watching Saitou for any indication of what he should do, but rather to ask Saitou to accept whatever choice he is planning to make.

That is the least Saitou can do with all things considered. All he has ever wanted was for Heisuke to live his life according to his own beliefs. Those beliefs are worthy of a respect Heisuke is always not aware he has.

For as much as he knows Heisuke values his opinion and thoughts, it is not Saitou who he rests on the longest.

It’s Sano and Shinpachi. They need it most.

The wobbly grin Heisuke manages lowers Sano’s head and balls up Shinpachi’s fist. There is no way out. They’re trapped against a reality that is pressing in and in until all choices suffocate save for two. Two of the ugliest yet most resilient.

Shinpachi had nearly sliced Sannan-san up when he first pulled out the ochimizu. It had taken Saitou and Hijikata-san reminding him that Heisuke’s choice has to be his own. If he is to die it has to be his choice, if he is to live as a rasetsu that is something only he has the authority to ask for. Shinpachi had yielded, Sano’s hand on his shoulder. The rage had not surprised Saitou. Shinpachi had meant to protect Heisuke in the only way he knew how from something that cannot be beaten.

They’ll lose either way.

“I’ll-” Coughing is forced into words through valiant effort alone, “-take it.”

Keeping his reaction down to a small start, nothing Heisuke can perceive in his current condition, is simple. Pulling apart the relief, and the barn of frustration he feels at himself for it, is harder. Saitou is less opposed to the ochimizu on principle than Shinpachi or Sano. If it were required for him to fulfil his purpose he would take it. Heisuke is an entirely different matter. He had been so vehemently opposed to the ochimizu from the beginning. This could shatter him. There is a tremendous risk to his sense of self.

But his purpose is to live on with the ones he cares for.

Saitou is relieved to see him to choose to chase that ambition. Still, he knows something in his chest that had begun to bend will break when Heisuke swallows.

The color of the ochimizu is brighter than Heisuke’s blood. Unnaturally so. It lacks the smell of life and clashing metal when Sannan-san opens the lid. It flows too easily, no regard for pain endured when it’s placed against Heisuke’s lips.

Heisuke’s hand covers Sannan-san’s, he tilts the vial all the way back and gulps. It is his way of taking ownership. Saitou nods, even if Heisuke isn’t watching he feels compelled to acknowledge the gesture.

In the moment Heisuke finishes swallowing, Shinpachi grabs hold of him. Crossing Heisuke’s arms over his body and hugging him into his chest. Saitou doesn’t miss his unsheathed sword placed right beside him. Shinpachi is prepared, “Get out!”

The warning comes at the same time Heisuke’s hair goes white and he begins to seize. Every muscle in his body is rigid, binding around the ochimizu and fighting the spread of it. Fighting, but losing ground every second. It is not the unnatural color of Heisuke’s eyes that shocks Saitou. They would be recognizable in a thousand different colors. It is the inquisitive brightness being consumed by a hungry glint. It is the absence of kindness and the strain of something that is certainly not Heisuke surging forward.

The accompanying scream is enough to make even Hijikata-san look away.

It’s inhuman, falling from blood curdling into a low growl. Saitou latches onto something of Heisuke’s voice underneath the snarling. It may be gone from his eyes, but in his voice… There is some part of him mourning the loss of his humanity. That sorrow is a comfort. Heisuke has enough of his mind intact to separate what he wants from his existence from what the ochimizu is doing to him.

Any thoughts of comfort flee when Heisuke begins to fight Shinpachi rather than himself.

Shinpachi grunts and doubles down on the force he pins Heisuke with, the struggling is growing increasingly more violent. Heisuke bends and twists, throwing his head back into Shinpachi’s chest with enough force that Saitou can hear Shinpachi huff out the lost breath. Any size advantage Shinpachi has is beginning to be leveled by Heisuke’s new found strength.

It takes Sano too. Gripping Heisuke’s legs in some attempt to restrain him. He gets kicked several times in the process, but does not flinch. A feat few men could achieve. “Shinpachi and I have got him.”

_He wouldn’t want you all to see this. Please go now._

The message is clear. Souji, Hijikata-san, Kondo-san. They respond immediately, getting up to wait outside. Nobody is particularly comfortable with this process. They had not been when it was Sannen either. This is worse. This choice was forced, necessary to life or death. Forced on their youngest. That is perhaps the most unfair, if one believes that life sees itself in terms of fairness.

Sannan-san tries to linger, there is knowledge to be gained from this incident. If Heisuke can beat the ochimizu and keep his mind, well then there may be more than they thought to the drug as a tool.

The glare Shinpachi hurls at Sannan-san is fearsome enough to back him out of the room with a bow.

It is only Saitou who remains outside the trio. Out of respect he will do as requested.

“I will leave now,” But there is something he must ask first, “Please let me know how he fares.”

Sano manages a nod as Heisuke’s foot connects with his ribs once more.

Heisuke’s thrashing quiets momentarily. He peers past Sano’s shoulder directly at Saitou.

Saitou would be lying if he said he saw any signs of recognition on Heisuke’s face. But the reaction to his voice… That had not been imagined. The recognition real but useless. It reveals nothing. Body language that was once simple to read is now in a foreign language that grates against Saitou’s senses. He wants to understand, but cannot. It might be possible to learn it. To teach himself the words Heisuke is trying to communicate through silent stillness.

He excuses himself though. There is nothing more he can do here. The reality of his uselessness is unsettling. He has always done everything in his power to help Hijikata-san and the Shinsengumi. In that goal he has been successful. A sharp and steady sword, always prepared for whatever he is asked to slice through.

But in this matter he is dull, laughably rusted.

~~~~~

The return to his room is no shield against the struggle down the hall. The sounds are muffled, but the walls have never been as thin as they are tonight. Everything passes through with no resistance. Anxiety and screams, grief and limbs pounding the floor. It is too noisy to sleep. Too charged to sit idle.

Souji would certainly be up for a spar. They have often taken their troubles out on each other with practices matches that would terrify new recruits. Their conversations are made up of sword swings and sweat, all bound together by gasping breath. He could talk to Souji about Heisuke that way. But Heisuke has seen enough violence in the past hours that even discussing him through such means seems too much.

And Souji was not there. Neither was Hijikata-san. It had been just Saitou and Heisuke for those months. Just Saitou who had the ability to see what path Heisuke was taking at the same time he saw what choices the Shinsengumi would be forced to make. Only Saitou has both sides of tonight’s tragedy. The two pieces fit together in his mind at the same time Heisuke’s image of his own life is being torn to pieces.

Speaking to someone about Heisuke is not an option currently available. Sleep is too afraid of all the screams and bangs. It will just be Saitou and his thoughts tonight. Thoughts that have the potential to wind down paths he has no desire to take. But some of them are important enough to drag through ink and onto paper. A visual representation to slow down his mind and give the illusion of a companion for conversation. Each stroke on the blank page is one less word he has to hold in uncomfortable places.

Writing has never been suited to Saitou the way is to Hijikata-san. Expression through action has always been his preferred method. He is not bad at writing, his script is neat and even. At least it normally is. Today it wanders. Too much pressure initiates a race between excess drops. His wrist is tense, short strokes stab into rolling ones. The frustration is similar to the one he’d felt in Heisuke’s room. Of not being in control of the situation. His hand is running away with memories and he cannot stop it. The concise recounting of the events of the day he had intended is lost to the precious things he will not allow to end.

His writing still isn’t perfect, but it begins to flow blood into ink. Pouring life onto the page.

The first day at Shieikan fills the top of the page, light and curling. Meeting Heisuke for the first time wraps around the date, contributing to its significance. That day was the first time he had found acceptance. The first time he had offered his strength and been accepted with everything that entailed. Heisuke had been there, watching him and Souji. No judgement, just wide eyed with a sort of amazement. Amazement had never been the greeting he received until then.

The next strokes are not as soft, his fingers tighten on the brush, sharpening the ink into bold lines. No fear, no hesitation. They take the shape of the first time he had watched Heisuke fight. Exuberant and impulsive. Those words fit, but they mask others. Like polish and resilience. Heisuke’s style had not been sloppy nor rushed. Simply the right fit for him. The right cadence that held up even under attacks from men much larger than him. It had impressed Saitou then. Heisuke has only improved.

It’s the bottom of the page that gives him a little more trouble. He loosens his grip, tightens it again, speeds up, slows down. More pressure, then less. The results are a painfully flat version of when he and Heisuke spent the night together. It is not for lack of trying that he cannot catch the way Heisuke’s breath had come in time to Saitou’s kisses. It is not a lack of memory that makes it impossible to represent how hands had felt in his hair. It not an absence of concentration that prevents his fingers from sharing with the page how warm the morning after had been.

The ink is not thick enough to hold everything. The page is too restrictive.

Saitou’s end result is not worth saving. Not when his body has no trouble recalling. Not when Heisuke’s thumping and growling has finally grown quiet, and Saitou cannot hang onto a paper that reads like the summary of a complete story. He has not captured everything that was, or everything that will be.

The flames from his lamp do a far better job digesting his thoughts than he had. The paper curls away from the heat, an act of self-preservation that buys mere parts of seconds before it falls into ashes and smoke.

Tomorrow is not far off now.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Tomorrow has not found Saitou fondly in days. It’s rude in the way it balls its fists up and bangs on his door. There is no regard in the way it is slow to leave and quick to come. An inconsiderate guest that has made rest difficult. He has run around and around, cycling through his duties with his normal level of efficiency. It requires a little more than usual. The strain is shoved away until it’s a dull hum. Saitou’s skill set has never been tied to emotion. He swings and is swung. The choices he has made have not been regretful ones. They are not why his eyes are tired, or the reason his lips have stumbled across a slight yet stubborn frown.

Itou. Aburano-Kouji. Ochimizu. Heisuke. These thoughts pile up by evening.

It is not the decisions he made regarding this series of events that are difficult to accept, but rather the unintended outcome.

Saitou does not regret not having told Heisuke of his reasons for being among the Guardians, but he is concerned. Concerned with how Heisuke may perceive the choice he had made to not disclose certain information. Saitou had been willing to sleep with him, but not to tell him of the secret mission Hijikata-san had given him. Surely that stings, although that had not been Saitou’s intention. He had given Heisuke part of himself in total sincerity, and received pieces of Heisuke given freely. Pieces he still keeps. Pieces he had held in quiet reverence after the incident. Holding, holding, holding. Waiting for any sign of the warmth Heisuke had left in his skin.

He had let Heisuke make his own decisions, uninfluenced.

But at what cost?

Saitou has not been able to see him since he took it.

He had witnessed Heisuke start to fight Shinpachi, but it had still been shocking when Shinpachi emerged from Heisuke’s room the next day with various bruises all over his body. A black eye. Marks looking suspiciously like fingerprints and scratches on his upper arms. Sano has been rubbing at his ribcage, fingers trailing over bruises that certainly hurt less than the memory of what put them there. The two of them had looked battered, as though all the years Heisuke should have lived before his transformation had been split between them.

Heisuke had been fairly violent when Saitou excused himself. It appears as though things took a sharp turn for the worst before they got better.

To think of Heisuke fighting, screaming, struggling so viciously against whatever the ochimizu does to a man’s mind. That is troubling.

He has to see for himself just how much damage has been done. Needs to see how much truth there is to the funeral they had held for Heisuke. Of all of them, life has always been most precious to Heisuke. Not out of a fear of death, although that was certainly present in that alley, but out of a genuine love for the people around him. The isolation will be difficult for him.

Heisuke has always seemed to capture the rays of the sun and shine them back out twice as bright. Saitou prays moonlight is not so different.

This visit is overdue. Saitou should have come sooner. It is not fear that kept him away. No, it had been the lack of an answer when he had asked Shinpachi how Heisuke is feeling. It had been Sanos’s stiff smile, and “He could be worse.” Chizuru’s tears. Souji’s uncharacteristically pensive silence. All these things told him to give Heisuke time. He wonders now if that had been a misstep.

It does not matter. He is here now, whether Sannan-san wants him to be or not. “I would like to see him.”

“Are you certain that’s a good idea?” It is not quite an accusation. But there is an implication there that Saitou is not fond of.

“If Heisuke is unwilling he can send me away himself.” He has to see him at least once. To let him know that he has not been abandoned. Not after what he had seen.

“Down the hall on the right. I believe he’s awake for the night.” Sannan-san’s smile curls around the sharp edge of his tone. “Do be careful, though.”

The warning drops to the ground. Saitou refuses to carry it with him. He does not fear Heisuke. Fear is a reaction to a threat, to danger. There is no circumstance where he can image his body perceiving Heisuke as such. Much stronger sensations are already sewed up in Heisuke’s name and essence. Those are not so easily forgotten. Heisuke himself has always been resilient in an unexpected sort of way. Resistant to all of the most terrible parts of their world. Not ignoring them, but smiling at them. Saitou can see the merits in that way of thinking. Heisuke smiles more than any of them. He would like to keep that presence around as long as possible. It’s soothing.

It is difficult to know what he had been expecting, but what he is met with certainly is not it.

Heisuke sits in the far corner of his room, staring into the glow of his single lamp. The light casts a warmth over his face that is reminiscent of daylight, but it touches the angles of his face with an unfamiliar hand. His back is to the moon. It’s quite defiant in a small, broken kind of way. Heisuke does not look like himself. There is no smile, his skin is pale. Lines around his eyes are deeper. He appears sick, if Saitou were to be frank. But he is still here, still trying to live. That counts for more than Saitou can express. Death is an accepted part of their life, there is honor to be found there. Sometimes living takes so much more.

“Hajime-kun?” There. Something in Heisuke sparks at the sight of Saitou. Something he hopes is not yet buried. “I didn’t expect you.”

“May I stay for a while?” Now it is a matter keeping it. Of not letting the lamp be the brightest thing in the room.

“Of course!” There is certainly joy there. But Heisuke’s smile is filled with holes that let uncertainty slip past teeth. “You’re always welcome.”

“I apologize I didn’t come sooner.” Apologies are not something he gives often, not like this one. A single sentence trying to express how many times he thought about coming here, but did not. Apologizing for the assumption he had made that Heisuke would need time, when what he really needs is to not be alone.

Heisuke startles, hands flailing to capture and dismiss Saitou’s concerns, “No, it’s fine, Hajime-kun. Really. You’re busy and you’re here now. So it’s ok.”

These words are uneven, bumping over tensions and exhaustion that Heisuke cannot smooth out enough to fool Saitou. That he is trying to hide something twists in Saitou’s stomach. Nothing like this existed between them before. No strained quiet when all Saitou really wants to hear is Heisuke ramble on about something snarky Souji said, or about a brawl he got into with Shinpachi and Sano. Heisuke speaks with an enthusiasm that is so rare Saitou knows there is no one else to fill that role.

“Heisuke.” Saitou debates reaching out to touch him, to trace under Heisuke’s eyes until the exhaustion colored there is gone. There might be time for that later. They need to talk now. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m-.” He pauses. It’s not the reassurance spilling with positivity that Heisuke had given to Sano and Shinpachi. Saitou can see it when Heisuke picks at his clothes, and bites his lip. Heisuke is remembering. Remembering that question and where it comes from. When they asked it, and what had carried the answer to it between them. He can’t break the honesty that they’ve always had. “I’ve been better, but I’m not dead. You don’t need to worry.”

“I am not concerned about you out of obligation. You should know that.” Saitou lays his hand on Heisuke’s shoulder and squeezes.

The laughter is not ideal, it sounds more like choking at first. All air and dried out humour that has been waiting around for too long to be given life. But Heisuke’s voice catches up, and the sincerity of the sound grows. “I know. I know. But say, Hajime-kun?”

It is an improvement, Heisuke pushing along their conversation. Saitou tilts his head in a slight nod. Keep talking, keep breathing, keep living.

“Why didn’t you tell me about what Hijikata-san asked you to do?” Heisuke watches him, eyes focused but not sharp. Just wondering. Shoulders rounded forward, and palms up. “I’m not mad! I just- you must have thought I’m pretty dense.”

Saitou freezes, just for a second. Lungs emptied, before he breathes, careful to inhale all of the things he needs to tell Heisuke. All of the little words he owes him for his loyalty and kindness. All of the things he thought Heisuke knew, but needs to hear to now. Nothing Saitou can offer him will be enough to draw the ochimizu from his veins, or erase the scars that demon left on Heisuke’s chest. But Heisuke has never asked him for much, and if Heisuke needs to hear this, then Saitou will gladly give it.

“That isn’t it. I did not want to influence your decision.” Words are so much more pliant for Hijikata-san or Sano. They are difficult for Saitou to bend around his intended meaning. Too short and stiff to take the shape of the comfort he tries to express. “You were confused about your place. I believed you should figure that out on your own.”

“Oh,” It’s quiet, but Heisuke shifts back into a more comfortable position. He stretches out his legs, rolling onto his side. The lamp light follows him down, running across his back to hold the moonlight to the far wall. “I’m not sure I’m any less confused now. It’s just a different question?”

Heisuke shrugs, and almost smiles. Almost says more. But he stops, and Saitou starts again for him. “And what question is that?”

“If I should have turned Sannan-san down.” Heisuke chuckles, and it breaks something in the air. Air is not solid, but Heisuke manages to shatter it anyway. Shatter the air, splinter the moonbeams, startle the dust. There is no one word that causes this devastation, it is what’s unspoken that does the wrecking.

_I should be dead_ _and we both know it._

Saitou grabs Heisuke’s wrist and yanks his hand towards him. He sweeps his thumb along Heisuke’s lifeline. His palm is smoother than the callouses on his fingers, but it is not quite soft either. A nice balance between experience and newness. “Why would you question a choice to live?”

“I was afraid to die.” There’s self-depreciating amusement in Heisuke’s voice. The kind that lowers his eyes and encourages Saitou to slide his other hand down from Heisuke’s shoulder to lace their fingers together. These words are difficult for him, and Saitou will support him where he can. “But I think I’m more freaked out by what I am now.”

 He pauses. Heisuke stands on shaky ground. Carefully trying to step forward without falling over all the things he had thought were certain. He will not pretend to know what Heisuke is experiencing. The transition from human to rasetsu is not a pleasant one. Sannan-san’s almost resulted in serious harm coming to Yukimura.

And Heisuke’s transition was worse. Not in the danger he’d posed to anyone, Shinpachi had held him down quite well. It was worse because it had been the last thing Heisuke ever wanted. Watching him laugh and cry before swallowing, seeing him freeze then struggle. The final moment Saitou witnessed before leaving the room: Heisuke looking at him, seeming to recognize his voice but being unable to stop himself from striking out soon after. That has stuck to Saitou’s lungs, every breath after burning with the reminder.

The terror of being unable to prevent himself from hurting someone is what has kept Heisuke company.

It never should have happened. That life or death decision could have been avoided had Heisuke known to get out when Saitou did.

This is not blaming himself, it’s simply a fact.

The trembling in Heisuke’s fingertips shakes loose another unwelcome realization. Heisuke had not been shaking when he came in. It was not until Saitou touched him that it begin. The fear cannot be of Saitou himself. Heisuke cannot believe he would harm him. No, the fear is a part of the way Heisuke curls into himself, always smaller. A part of the way he never asks for anyone to visit him, and the mirror he used to have in his old room is noticeably not present. It is himself that he does not trust.

“You are still you.” Another fact. Saitou has always been good at picking out what is true from what is false, and this is something he is certain of.

Facts do not seem to be enough to convince Heisuke. “That’s what I tried to tell myself. But what if I just change so slowly that I don’t notice it until-”

“That will not happen.” His firmness grinds against Heisuke’s uncertainty. The resulting sparks go a little ways towards replacing daylight. “You’re stronger than that.”

“I’m glad I’m alive, Hajime-kun. Don’t think I’m not.” Heisuke swings their joined hands in a playful gesture completely at odds with the way his lips struggle with the word _alive_ as though it tastes strange.

It begins to bruise the insides of Saitou’s ribs. Pain flowering out from nicks and bumps that had been accumulating since that night. Not fatal wounds by any measure, but each time Heisuke fails to recognize himself, every moment he seems to dislike existing inside his new body- it seizes Satiou with a an ache that follows, nags, and builds. This is not right. These images of Heisuke are pale and brittle compared to everything he knows he can be.

Memories from his time among the Guardians of the Imperial Tomb are mostly unpleasant. Tolerating Itou’s men long enough to steal information back to Hijikata-san. Pretending his loyalties had shifted when they had never been more steadfast.

Every time one of Itou’s men would speak to him the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up. _Enemy_. His body had reacted to them as a threat, yet he’d had to conceal that. Had had to continue allowing those men to believe he was on their side, to allow them to believe he would turn his back on the Shinsengumi. He did it gladly for Hijikata-san, but the adjustment period for such an assignment is uncomfortable. New roles rubs against old ones, fitting too tightly in places, hanging loosely in others, in danger of getting snagged and unraveling.

It had not all been uncomfortable, though. That single night he spent with Heiske is not far from his mind now. It had helped them both. He had intended to help Heisuke, but had helped himself as well. More accurately, he had let Heisuke help him.

With Heisuke he had been able to shed those uncomfortable layers. Just for a little while. Allowing himself to slide back into the comfort of the Shinsengumi and of Heisuke himself had helped immensely. It had soothed some of the chaffed sores, and given him moments of peace. Moments where he had been confident he was not in danger. That is something precious, rare for people like them. Heisuke had been more than happy to give as much as he received, would have been happy to give even more if Saitou had let him. He is the the type who is genuinely glad to see others live and thrive. He could not do that if he were dead.

“I believe you are happy to be alive.” That is not where the issue lies. Saitou has never doubted Heisuke’s will to live.

Heisuke looks up, and then back down. The exhaustion hanging on him is strange. When he tilts his face towards the light it’s obvious. Every line and splotch pointed out by the lamp. _Here, and here, and here._ Each day he has not slept properly. Every second he has spent going around and around in his head trying to make sense of who he is now. Saitou can see it. That is until Heisuke turns toward the shadows in the corner of the room, and everything is smoothed out into a falsely uniform shade. He looks fine again, and in that moment Saitou knows just how Heisuke gave away.

He takes a deep breath, “But I do not believe you are sure of what living means for you anymore.”

Heisuke stops fidgeting with a loose thread on clothing. He is very still, but not still at all. While his body ceases to move Saitou watches his mind race. Heisuke has always had very open eyes. An indication of the openness of himself. There is a sincerity about him that Saitou knows is unchanging. Perhaps that is why Heisuke struggles so much worse than Sannan-san, and will only continue to struggle. The bloodlust has not hit him yet, but it will. And when it does some part of Heisuke will remain aware. That stubborn side that clings onto his morals no matter severe the burn of holding on becomes. For as hard as the rasetsu in him will fight for blood, Heisuke will fight against it. The problem being they share a body.

“I’m still talking to you aren’t I, Hajime-kun?” The words are light, just barely dragging along the surface of what Saitou is hoping to pull out.

“You are.”

“And Sano and Shinpachi still visit me.”

“They do.”

“And they say I haven’t changed.” Each line brings Saitou a little closer, Heisuke yields a little bit more.

“But you do not believe them.”

Saitou is ready for an argument. Not a vicious one, Heisuke’s generally good natured, but a protest would not be a surprise. Heisuke says nothing, and Saitou is unsure if Heisuke is struggling to string words together or if he has bruised too raw of a nerve. Even if the latter is the case, that is not a bad thing. It does not change what Saitou wishes to show him. A little discomfort from Saitou’s words is nothing compared to what Heisuke is already experiencing. Saitou needs to promise Heisuke that he is still himself. Nobody else has been able to convince him, not entirely.

Saitou has an advantage from what he and Heisuke had shared. His is hope is that Heisuke’s body will remember what his mind is too distressed to. He will react the same to Saitou, he will know Saitou still cares about him, and that he is not forsaken. Still, these are difficult things to express even through various channels. But the combination of grounding what he has tried to tell Heisuke in touches of gratitude, and affection, and reassurance. It should be enough. Heisuke instinctively moves toward positivity.

This encounter will not be exactly like their previous one. The rules are a little bit different, certain boundaries require breaking, others should not be crossed. Fragility of the moment is new too. If he pushes too hard Heisuke will not be able to withstand it, but if he isn’t firm enough… That would be worse. He would leave Heisuke even more scattered than before. Pulled apart instead of molded back together.

“I’m trying, Hajime-kun.” The response to his earlier comment. Delayed, but worth something significant. _I’m trying,_ Saitou has often heard it as an excuse for a short coming. Justification for a lack of effort or ability. This is not true for Heisuke. It is genuine. Marking real effort that he pounds away at each day with.

“I know.”

Assurances can take the form of words, but they are found other places as well.

Places like the dip between Heisuke’s collar bones where Saitou presses his thumb. The pressure he uses sliding up Heisuke’s throat is delicate. Following breath, but not chasing it. Heisuke will set the pace, whether he’s aware of it or not. Saitou will follow, each moment telling him where to go next. Every reaction, small or large, will show Saitou what places need his attention. Where he needs to tread carefully and what can be snapped back into place with a bit of force.

The response is minimal at first, a sharp inhale and nothing more. But Heisuke does not say stop, does not move away.

So Saitou stays where he is, keeps his ministrations steady. It’s a matter of patience, and he has plenty of that. He can wait. They have time, as much time as Saitou will carve out just for Heisuke.

It only takes Heisuke a few more seconds to move. He curls his fingers around Saitou’s wrist, so lightly it almost tickles. He trails them up Saitou’s arm to his shoulder. The expression he makes is strange for Heisuke, quietly conflicted. Biting back words, and insecurity, and other more skittish things that Saitou is determined to find.

There is much to be found in touch, in sharing sensation and breath. That is the type of conversation he seeks when he bends forward to brush his lips against Heisuke’s. The sensation is not so different than it had been the first time. Still soft, the shape Heisuke’s mouth is familiar…

He can taste fear when Heisuke breathes on his lips before leaning back in.

The kiss is stronger, not by much, but enough. Heisuke has always been enough.

There are small sores on Heisuke’s lips where he must have bitten them. These are not of any consequence, but their root is. Saitou trails his tongue over each spot, carefully tracing around the words Heisuke had bitten into his own skin. All those messages of doubt and uncertainty. They’re worth something to Saitou because Heisuke is struggling through a process that is far harder to survive than the mortal injury he had received. He is permitted to have doubts. Those feelings are valid.

Saitou simply wants to encourage him not to linger in doubt’s company for too long. Not to let it talk him into staying inside dark places when friends and life try to invite him out.

Hands come to rest on his sides, before they draw away, and return a few moments later. With that return comes a graze of teeth against Saitou’s lips. A gentle snag that runs a shiver down his back. He pulls back enough to see Heisuke smiling, a smile that should be encouraging but instead it lays into Saitou’s chest with an unpleasant jab. Heisuke’s happiness is not painful, but the wistfulness that lifts from the corners of his mouth to his eyes is. Saitou can see him match the warmth of what they are sharing now to his old existence. Heisuke places it as something he once enjoyed brought back in an especially vivid memory.

That is not where this belongs. Saitou wants no part of that longing, everything Heisuke can ask him for is right here. His reminder must be a bit more insistent.

There is no resistance when his fingers trace Heisuke’s jaw, encouraging him to tilt his head. More expressive means of convincing Heisuke of the _right now_ requires more room to work. The trust the share gives Saitou access to many valuable things, but Heisuke’s neck is a nice place to start. He presses a kiss there. Lightly at first, growing in force when Heisuke takes hold of his hand and squeezes. From his starting point he works up and down, never lingering in one place long enough to allow Heisuke to lean into the sensation. Saitou allows his tongue to follow the artery, leisurely so. Heisuke’s frustration is a pleasant sound. Something between a gasp and a sigh.

Saitou rewards himself and Heisuke, with a steadier kiss to his pulse. The thrumming easily seeps into the thin skin of Saitou’s lips. That pulse had been so weak only days ago. So close to sputtering out and leaving them down a captain and something more. These thoughts are hard to beat down, it requires some assistance. He thinks Heisuke must know that, his thumb starts tracing Saitou’s knuckles. Life has a distinct taste that is best shared. Saitou presses his lips to that same spot again and again until Heisuke’s unsteady hand knots into his hair and tugs.

“Hey,” Heisuke’s voice is quiet from more than hoarseness, “I wanna see you.”

“I’m here.” Here is exactly where he needs them both to be.

“You don’t-” He pauses. Evening out his breath, tasting words before he hands them over, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know that. I want to.” Saitou can see it. A darker emotion that passes behind Heisuke’s eyes.

“With a rasetsu?” There it is. The smallest slip towards bitterness, towards accusing Saitou of either pity or insanity.

“No, with you.” Heisuke drank the ochimizu, but rasetsu is not his identity. It is too simple a term. Not enough to contain everything Heisuke has been and will be. He’s human in all the ways Saitou can think of that matter.

“You really want to do this with me?” The hope starving behind disbelief is painful to watch.

“I’m certain.” Saitou knows Heisuke refuses to make assumptions based on the past. Once does not promise twice. But this is less about any sort of sexual gratification, and more about what they can do for each other. They fit into each other’s lives in a way that can provide healing, if Heisuke would simply stop overthinking his own worth and accept it.

Heisuke shakes his head. Laughter tugging Saitou closer to him. There’s something magnetic about Heisuke’s happiness. The moment it begins to show itself, no matter how slight, people want to get to know it better. Saitou has had the pleasure of knowing it then, and he wishes to continue to know it now.

And yet, it’s not pure laughter. Heisuke’s shoulders still slump, and Saitou hears notes of many things that are not amusement or joy. Nothing is an easy fix. Saitou is not so vain as to think he will be able to cure Heisuke of concern. Heisuke is holding up fears and smiles, mourning and determination, terrible pain and also a great deal of love. His balancing system is too complex for any one person to operate. Saitou is here to remove some of the weight before the inevitable topple comes. He cannot protect Heisuke completely, but he can make that collapse less dangerous.

He has traveled to many places, has met many people. Some he remembers, most he does not. Heisuke is someone he doubts he could ever forget. That shocking kindness and ability to share. Yes, Heisuke has become a significant presence in his life. More than just a fleeting moment, or crossed swords. Someone who he can confide in, and someone who he wishes to help.

There’s still plenty to be done tonight before Heisuke needs to sleep the sun away and Saitou must return to his duties. Certain things will be left in Heisuke’s care, others Saitou will carry away with him when they part. There is always an exchange in these types of actions, conscious or not.

Saitou shoves Heisuke down onto the futon, pinning his shoulders. The solid floor beneath the futon offers an anchor that Heisuke will be grateful for in a matter of moments. Heisuke reaches up to loop his arms around Saitou’s neck. The invitation is clear in the downward tug. Heisuke puts enough force behind it that Saitou has to brace with one arm to keep from falling onto him. He doubts Heisuke would mind, but the goal is to offer something more pleasant.

Heisuke’s forehead is where Saitou begins. He kisses the scar from the Ikedaya Inn. It has faded a bit since Heisuke received it, but Saitou follows the shape of it with his lips. There is a flicker of affection for the mark that shows Heisuke’s survival prior to any unnatural assistance. Fingers drag from his hair down his back, stoking then clinging when Saitou moves on to cheekbones. It’s when he reaches the corner of Heisuke’s mouth that Heisuke begins to ask for more. Twisting under Saitou to kiss him straight on, a surprising amount of tongue and teeth. Saitou allows it. If Heisuke needs somewhere to place frustration and ache then Saitou will gladly bear it.

Heisuke grabs his hands, pulls them down to the tie of clothes. Saitou honors the request, pulling the knot until it comes loose and he is able to drag fabric off of shoulders. He pauses to remove the ties from both of their hair. The flush on Heisuke’s face reaches all the way down his neck. The warmth is particularly pleasant against Saitou’s lips when he bends to press kisses along collarbones. He slides down to Heisuke’s sternum, the moment his tongue touches skin a knee jerks against his thigh.

Saitou lingers over the left side of Heisuke’s chest, maybe his heart hurts but it has not constricted enough to wring Heisuke dry of the many reasons Saitou cares about him. He can’t help but smile when Heisuke begins to tug at his clothes. Hands not completely free of their earlier trembling, but determined and dextrous. It only takes Heisuke seconds to loosen everything enough to pull it down and toss it aside.

It is only right that he return the favor. Between kisses Heisuke lifts his hips, giving Saitou the opportunity to finishing pulling his clothes out from from under him. This is not Saitou’s first time seeing Heisuke naked, but it is the first time he sees Heisuke look down at himself and suppress a cringe. There is a deepness to his eyes, wide with want for Saitou but also a flash of how he looks when he stares down an enemy. The latter is directed not at Saitou. When Saitou sees himself in Heisuke’s eyes, there is respect, admiration, affection. When Heisuke looks at himself those things shrink back, hide behind _danger, don’t trust it._

That is not acceptable to Saitou. Not this disregard for himself, not the way that Heisuke is still holding something back. Not trusting himself to let go. His touches are strong, but only after a moment of hesitation. With each kiss Heisuke has inhaled in something like a small gasp before relaxing. Little hitches adding up into the picture of what Saitou needs to dismantle. Heisuke does not need to protect him from himself.

Heisuke’s hands reach towards him, but Saitou takes hold of them. Squeezes for a moment, before pushing them back toward Heisuke. There’s confusion. But Heisuke does not pull away or resist when Saitou covers the backs of hands with his own.

This will be a lesson for Heisuke. An exercise in relearning.

Saitou guides Heisuke’s hands over his body. Shoulders go stiff, so Saitou brings Heisuke there. Traces around that fear with the joint pressure of their fingers. The circles he teaches are soothing, steady and even. From there he takes them down Heisuke’s chest, sweeping across his abdomen. He keeps the touches light, allows Heisuke to feel his own muscles which have never betrayed him. Heisuke’s body had fought the ochimizu as long as it could. It tries to do what Heisuke asks even while poisoned. That deserves appreciation.

Heisuke curls his fingers roughly into his own thighs. He leaves angry red lines with his nails when Saitou drags his hands back up to his hips. The action is strange, but not. The lines fade in seconds. And it is clearly Heisuke’s heavy handed attempt at showing Saitou what he already knows.

So he stops, lifts Heisuke’s hands to his mouth and kisses each palm. Notices the way Heisuke’s breathe snaps and shortens, and how there might be a little more moisture than normal in the corners of his eyes. That’s fine. Emotion is dangerous in many locations, but here it is safe. Saitou will hang on and on until Heisuke remembers how to be as kind to himself as he is to others.

“You were there weren’t you?” Heisuke frees his hand in favor of cupping Saitou’s cheek. He sounds like these words have been scratching his throat for a while now. “You saw?”

“I-” It takes Saitou a moment to remember to breathe, for oxygen to return his thoughts to him. “Yes.”

“I thought so, but I don’t really remember much of it.” Why Heisuke chooses to bring this up right now could stem from a number of reasons. Heisuke shares and Saitou listens. Seeing their routine seemingly intact is a small blessing.

“Does it matter?”

“Thanks.”

The progression of words matters less than what follows afterward. Heisuke reaches up and Saitou leans down. They’re kissing, gripping, shoving, and caressing. The rhythm falls away, direction falls away. But Heisuke is coming alive again. And Saitou is there to greet him with an enthusiasm that drowns everything but the sound of their shared breath and the way their pulses drum against every part of their bodies looking for a way out.

Saitou reaches to turn out the lamp. The growing intensity usually calls for darkness.

Heisuke catches his wrist, shaking his head. The brightness has become invaluable to him. Saitou can respect that. He is also not opposed to way the light falls on Heisuke’s face and chest. Shadows shift angles with every breath, light slides around skin and sweat. It is beautiful. Heisuke would be embarrassed if he said so. So he does not.

For as much as he has wanted to take his time, matters are becoming more pressing. Heisuke grabs his biceps, gripping and releasing in time with the firm strokes Saitou traces on the insides of Heisuke’s thighs. His hands wander here and there until Heisuke’s back arches and he yanks Saitou down for a kiss. It’s messy, one or both of their hair somewhat in the way. Neither care. Fingers find his hips, and Saitou grinds down. Heisuke nearly growls at him.

He knows. They both need this. Need every kiss they try to place here, but that end up there. Need to hear gasps that tangle up names. Everything is acceptance and life. There is not a single part of himself nor Heisuke that can claim to be dead. Saitou has things he could say to Heisuke, but those messages are nothing compared to the one he sends when he lowers himself down. The spark of pain that licks up his lower back is quickly forgotten when he opens his eyes to Heisuke’s amazement. A smile, nearly tears, but maybe a laugh.

Perhaps, they are not the most likely friends to an outside observer. Heisuke has Sano and Shinpachi, Saitou has always had an understanding with Souji. But he and Heisuke emphasized with each other. They understand things about each other that neither can actually explain, but they know anyway. There is something special about that. Something special about the way Heisuke kisses his collarbones and throat when he leans forward to brush a few stray hairs from Heisuke’s face.

“Heisuke,” Saitou does not bother to hide the difficult he has selecting a single volume or speed for his name. That name is a collection of memories and sensations, a continuation of a connection he is grateful to have made.

“How do you-” A gasp delays Heisuke’s words. The snap of Saitou’s hips is momentarily overwhelming. “-trust me so much?”

“It is not hard.” He grips one of Heisuke’s hands, the other strokes the side of his neck.

The words make it out just before Heisuke lifts his hips in time with Saitou arching down. Saitou gets stuck on something between a moan and Heisuke’s name. There is a small amount of pride to be taken in the way Heisuke tosses his head back onto the blankets, biting his lip but failing to keep quiet.

Even in the midst of the unraveling that’s stripping them both down to actions and reactions, there’s a consideration for each other. They hold hands, the warmth of Heisuke’s palm is not lost under the tugs to his hair, or the way Heisuke’s muscles shiver under whatever shapes Saitou draws with his fingertips.

It is still not enough. Not yet, not when they are so close. But not close enough.

Saitou speeds up, and Heisuke is more than willing to match him. Their joined hands end up resting against Heisuke’s chest for support and something more. Everything is noisy. Whether it is his own pulse, Heisuke’s, or both that pounds in his ears he can’t be certain. He doesn’t think Heisuke can pick apart whose free hand is scratching and whose is tugging. Saitou cannot tell where the moon is, or how much of the lamp’s glow is still able to hold them. Heisuke is it. In this moment he is all that matters. All that Saitou’s body can register, all that his mind can understand.

The moment Heisuke begins to shake with every erratic breath, Saitou knows. It is seconds later that he joins Heisuke in that giddy release. There is nothing clearly defined yet. Everything remains a mess of racing hearts and spasming muscles, of gasps and radiating warmth.

They exhale at the same time.

Heisuke tries to laugh at their unintentional synchronization, but he only manages to gulp air and choke it back out. No voice yet.

Saitou thinks he’s smiling. Although, with his whole body humming to the same rhythm he can feel under he and Heisuke’s hands, it’s difficult to be sure of any one sensation.

When his breath slows, Saitou rolls off of Heisuke and tucks him up against his side instead. The warm is appreciated, and he is not ready for there to be distance between them just yet. There has been enough distance, high enough walls for Heisuke to have to climb over every time he wants to interact with one of them. So Saitou came to him to try to break down that separation that has Heisuke so exhausted. To try to give Heisuke the room to be honest with himself and another about what he is feeling. The sun can only have so many bright days before it needs to rest.

“Hey,” Heisuke’s tired. But he sounds like sleep rather than misery when he leans his head on Saitou’s shoulder. “You’ll come back soon, right?”

“Yes.” Maybe he’ll bring sake or some poetry next time. Small gestures for Heisuke to enjoy, tokens of the world he has been left behind by. It wouldn’t matter what Saitou brought, everything or nothing but himself. Heisuke would consider it worth more than enough.

“Good. I missed you.” Heisuke does not look at him directly when he says it. He runs his fingers across Saitou’s ribs absentmindedly.

“Sleep well, Heisuke.” The kiss he places on his forehead is chaste compared to what they’d been doing not long ago. But it is fitting of this, of them.

“Goodnight, Hajime-kun.” It’s nearly morning, actually.

Saitou smiles to himself while Heisuke’s eyes close. He deserves a day to forget his reversed sleep pattern and everything that comes with it. For Heisuke to forget night is day and day is night, that is wonderful. He does not need the moon or the sun to tell him when life begins or ends.

They do not know much about the rasetsu yet. Sannan-san and Heisuke are the first to not lose their minds completely. Length and quality of life are most certainly affected, by how much they are still unsure. With Kodo gone any progress towards such knowledge is greatly delayed. The cost of that time could be marginal or tragic. This is not so different from the life they have all already been living in terms of uncertainty.

Sano and Shinpachi have feared that there is no real future for a rasetsu. That they are doomed to a life that is only a cheap imitation of what they once had. Men that settled for a monster’s skin because they were not ready to give up life, but lost that life all the same. They want more for Heisuke. A full and vibrant life. He understands that, of course he does. But on the other hand…

Saitou has no doubt that Heisuke will live every single moment he is given. It is Heisuke’s choice alone that decides whether he is alive or dead. And Heisuke wants to live.

Nobody else can define what living means to him. Nobody else can determine the worth of the time he has bought himself.

Saitou’s decision is to support whatever Heisuke choices. To reverberate his resolve back to him whenever it begins to waver.

And with all that he has gained from Shieikan, from the Shinsengumi, from Heisuke-

It’s a fair trade.

**Author's Note:**

> Heijime does things to me ok... I've had this idea since I was planning out Echo. 
> 
> And I finally finished it. Yay! 
> 
> I gifted this to Calenlass_Greenleaf and lightningwaltz because they are such a big part of my inspiration. <3


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